“Saran should have had a lovely wife, too,” said the Prince thoughtfully, beginning to move on again.
“Wait a bit, my friend,” said the Siddhi-kur, “you may add to the story as you wish, by yourself, as you journey onward! As for me, I am off for the cool grove beside the garden of ghost children, for you have broken silence again on your way home, and I am free once more!”
With a shout of joy he leaped from the magic sack and dashed off toward the [[145]]north, where his mango tree stood awaiting him.
The Prince sighed wearily. “Oh, how stupid I am!” said he. “But I will get the Siddhi-kur even yet, and carry him to my master, Nagarguna, if I have to spend the rest of my life in doing it!”
And so it came about that in a few days the Khan’s son was again journeying back toward the cave of Nagarguna bearing upon his back the Siddhi-kur.
“Friend,” said that creature of magic, at length. “I have just bethought me of a marvellous tale which I am minded to tell you. You may listen or not, as you wish; for me, at least, it will make the way and the hours seem shorter. The name of this story is ‘The Fortunes of Shrikantha.’ ” [[146]]
TALE SEVEN
THE FORTUNES OF SHRIKANTHA
There was once a lad, the son of a Brahman, who was neither very poor nor very rich, very good nor very bad, very wise nor very foolish, but who had the kindest heart in all the world. His name was Shrikantha, and he lived long ago in India. When he was old enough to do as he liked, he sold all that he had and bought three pieces of cloth goods, very fine and handsome, and with these he was minded to trade and make his fortune. He bade his parents good-by and started forth to journey to a near-by city where he thought he might trade to the best advantage.